


Lucky

by pumpkinsake



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Happy, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinsake/pseuds/pumpkinsake
Summary: "Jesse ignored him, his hands along his lover's hips, moving him a little more in time with the music. Content with this rare moment of quiet togetherness between missions. Those seldom occasions where they got to relax, be themselves with one another. "A small series of happy, sweet moments between the two.





	Lucky

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a difficult time in the past month and sat down to write something a little lighter to keep my spirits up. I do love writing these boys in love.

Gunshots weren't an unusual sound during McCree's missions. Whether it be his own, or fire from the enemy forces. But never had he heard a bullet quite so close to his head. He collapsed on the floor, back pressed into the dirty wall. The person aimed with the intent to kill, the barrel of the gun in his face. But before the bullet found a home between his eyes, it took rest in the body of his back up.

“You damn idiot!” His voice boomed through the now empty corridor where Hanzo made his unwelcome drop. Their cover blown, bodies strewn through the area. Many dead, some unconscious, a handful fleeing from the end of the messy fight. McCree sat on his knees, flipping off his hat and jerking away the red shawl from around his neck. With half a breath, Hanzo looked down the corridor to hide his smirk. His hand pressed into his abdomen, against the bullet wedged between his bottom ribs. Blood pooled between his fingers. “I didn't ask for you to come in here! You're supposed to cover the high ground!”

McCree wasn't mad. Mad didn't cut it.

Enraged was more like it. Furious that Hanzo dropped his defenses for a second to come chase some bad guys down close quarters. Angered that he took a bullet aimed for a far more unfortunate spot on McCree's body. Hanzo darted between the gun and gunslinger as the bullet popped from the barrel. His teeth bared and the head of an arrow dug into the shooter's neck. It wasn't his place. He was an archer, a sniper. He should have been on the look out from the top of the building. Although an excellent close range fighter, he let himself fail and now was paying for it. “You're lucky it hit where it did! A shot like that point blank should have killed you!”

It was always the other way around. Hanzo yelling at McCree for his carelessness. Barking orders at him to stay in line or keep to his position. Berating him for blowing their cover and rolling in guns a blazing. And now he sat, that smug smile on his lips, staring down at the floor as Jesse fussed over him. The cowboy removed Hanzo's hand and pressed in his serape instead. Hanzo winced at the pressure, but he knew he would be fine. Help was on the way, and he was lucky. He wasn't in his right mind when he took that bullet.

Hanzo knew Jesse was thankful. He could read it in his dark eyes. The way his brow furrowed as he focused on stopping the bleeding. How the words sprang from his lips, like always in a moment of worry. “If you saw someone coming, you should have called me. Not throw yourself in the middle of the mess. That's why we have communicators.” They both knew that had Hanzo not shown up, McCree would have been in over his head. Dead, unable to chastise his mission partner for his mistake. It was a silent understanding that McCree had no business taking on that many people alone. Hanzo only continued to smile through closed eyes, taking in a long, painful breath. “You're an idiot, you know that. An idiot.”

McCree continued to ramble, his voice picking up through the empty corridor. Help would find them soon and all his fussing would be irrelevant. So what if McCree was in over his head. So what if he didn't notice the few extra agents following him. That was his agenda. He made silly mistakes all the time, and he recovered from them. Usually with a busted rib and broken nose, but he made it fine. He didn't need other people throwing themselves in danger because he slipped up. Especially Hanzo.

In the midst of Jesse's angry rant, Hanzo reached out with his clean hand and pressed it into the other man's jaw. Cupping it there for a moment, his thumb below his busted lip. McCree paused, an angry syllable resting on his lip, staring at his injured companion. With a pained grunt, Hanzo sat up to the best of his ability and sealed the gap between them.

He pressed their lips together for a chaste, warm kiss. Brief, but long enough to settle every nerve in McCree's body. A kiss he never expected, and one he never realized he was waiting on. He leaned into it, allowing Hanzo to lay his tired weight back against the wall. Only breath between them when they finally parted ways. He chased his lips with a shuddered sigh, swallowing his furious words in exchange for a grunt. “Don't go making this a habit cause you want to kiss me,” Jesse muttered. A chuckle rolled off his tongue as he pressed his forehead into Hanzo's.

The man before him only smiled, his hand still firm against Jesse's jaw. Thumb searching warm skin, the pain in his ribs subsided by the swell in his heart.

__

Music poured from Jesse's phone on the counter top of the community kitchen. Hanzo stood before the sink, rinsing out dirtied shot glasses and left over plates from dinner. Lingering behind him, his intoxicated partner, swaying the two of them out of sync to the music. He hummed the tune to a country song made well before his time into the back of Hanzo's neck, lips pressed into his skin. Mumbled words, slurred and incorrect, but full of that southern drawl that Hanzo loved so much. “Don't think those are the words,” Hanzo muttered towards the sink, shutting off the water.

Jesse ignored him, his hands along his lover's hips, moving him a little more in time with the music. Content with this rare moment of quiet togetherness between missions. Those seldom occasions where they got to relax, be themselves with one another. His voice hummed low against his partner's skin, a pleasant vibration on the back of his neck. Once Hanzo dried his hands on a nearby towel, Jesse turned him around to face him.

“Are you ready to sleep?” Hanzo said in a slightly intoxicated stupor, the remnants of his drink a buzz in his brain. He stole a quick kiss to interrupt his lover's poor rendition of the song.

Jesse smiled, one hand sliding up the length of Hanzo's body until he took his hand in his own. The other rested on his man's hips. “No, not yet,” he hummed in line with the music, pulling Hanzo away from the sink until they were in the center of the kitchen. Still swaying, awkward and warm. Jesse picked up a rhythm to slide his feet to, taking his partner with him. “Dance with me.”

“Right now?” He allowed Jesse to waltz him against the kitchen tile, their feet lazy and heavy against the tile. Pulling closer with little resistance, his free arm resting against the cowboy's shoulder. His hand laced through the hair that curled at the base of his neck, and he looked at him with a tired, charming smile. “It's almost two in the morning... we should sleep.”

“No, no, sugar,” Jesse hushed him, pressing a kiss into the side of his lips. “No, no, no...” His words dwindled with drunken twang through the rest of the song. A second late, a bit off key, but pleasing to Hanzo regardless. Jesse's voice his favorite sound in every form. Through the dim kitchen, the two avoided the table and almost bumped the counter. Too distracted in each other to notice Lena peering in through the doorway with a sleepy smile. She leaned her shoulder into the frame, arms crossed, tapping her fingers against her arm to the music. She watched for a few more sweet seconds before leaving, doing without a cup of water this evening.

__

Missions without each other were long. Too many days spent apart, their only time together through video chats over the phone. Pictures and words were not enough. They needed to be near one another. Hold hands, share kisses, touch skin. The door to their quarter slid open, no hesitation as the two stumbled inside wrapped in one another. Since McCree stepped off that airship, it took everything in Hanzo not to ravish him on the spot. But he held his tongue until they were away from the others. But now there was no stopping him.

Hanzo slammed his lover against the wall, fumbling with buttons and nibbling at his neck. The two like teenagers, so full of pent up energy that they hardly knew what they were doing. “Jesus, I missed you, darlin',” McCree breathed through the rampant series of kisses. Into his neck, onto his jaw, and finally to his lips. With tongue and teeth, bites and heavy breath. Wild and needy.

“You took much too long on that mission,” Hanzo shot back as he undid the last button, pushing away the shirt. His hands traveled over his skin, against every scar and bruise of his recent mission. He pressed full lips into his collar bone, tasting his battles and kissing his wounds. Sliding down to his knees until his lips coursed the freshest laceration. A knife gash above the hemline of his jeans. Healed a bit over the days of his absence, but still significant. “You did not tell me of this one.”

“Figured you would be mad if I told you how I got it,” Jesse smirked. He raked his fingers through the hair falling out of Hanzo's disheveled ponytail. Jesse waited on a stern glance, but the archer occupied himself with caring for the fresh wound. Laying delicate lips around the incision, as if each kiss took back his fights. Licking his lips, Jesse watched the way his lover tended to his cut. Pictures and videos weren't enough on the long missions. But knowing he had someone to come home to carried him through them just fine.

__

“You aren't supposed to be here,” Hanzo murmured with his back pressed into the door. There was enough space between the door and frame that the two could slink their hands through it. Jesse's index finger linked with Hanzo's pinkie. “Aren't you supposed to be getting ready?”

“I am ready...” A moment of nervous hesitation. “I'm ready. I want to see you.”

“You could, but it's your silly superstition not to see me before the ceremony.” Hanzo smiled in returned, leaning his head back to look across the room where his things laid. His life usually organized, folding his old clothes, packing away items as he used them. But today his previous outfit laid in a heap on the floor, thrown about the room in panicked disarray.

Jesse's fingers twitched and he slid their hands together. His fiance felt the tremble in his body. “I wanna kiss you.”

Hanzo sighed with a smile of agreement. But he wasn't the one who threw a fit about tradition. About the weird superstition of bad luck if the two saw one another before the wedding. “You will.”

Through the door, Hanzo heard his partner's nervous laugh. One of the his favorite sounds, like a calming roll of thunder that brought on welcomed storms. A sound that soothed him before he slept. Although full of anxiety, a good kind of anxious. “I can't wait to marry you, sugar,” Jesse mumbled, squeezing his fingers tight around his lover's hand.

“I can't wait to kiss you as your husband.” Hanzo turned and brought Jesse's hand to his lips. Spreading a smile over his knuckles, into the black engagement band. Decorated with blue gems, soon to join another band to forever encircle them in wedded bliss. He kissed the top of his hand, wishing he could kiss more than that. But it was Jesse's silly superstition. Not that they ever followed the rules. “Close your eyes.”

“But, sug-”

“I will close mine, too,” Hanzo pressed, shutting his eyes as promised. He waited until he heard Jesse release his nerves in a sigh before he pushed open the door enough to sneak through. Guided by his soon to be husband's hand, he stole away a kiss before they met down the aisle. How he wanted to see his beautiful fiance in a fit of anxious nerves, dressed his best for his walk down the aisle. But he promised, and he would have plenty of time to look at his lover. His fiance. His husband from this night forward.

__

Sun poured into the bedroom on the sleepy Sunday morning. Or what remained of the morning. The two had slept in all week, lingering in bed until well in the afternoon. They didn't have much to do anymore, now retired from Overwatch. The missions behind them, the battles ceased. The world a little more peaceful because of their worn out, calloused hands. No more alarms, no more intercom. No more sneaking off to the others quarters for the night. Only endless nights of lounging, drinking through movies, and laughing through dinner. Sleeping in each others arms in their small home tucked away in the warm southwest of America.

Somewhere on the floor, one of their dogs stretched out his long limbs and stood, rushing to head outside. His nails clicked against the hardwood floor and Jesse stirred at the scattering. He winced at the sunlight spreading into their bedroom, lifting his head and glaring. The clock across the way read a few minutes before noon and he dropped his head back against the pillow. “We need to wake up, pumpkin,” he groaned, pressing his lips into Hanzo's bare shoulder. His husband groaned, face in the pillow, content with staying in bed.

“We do not.” Hanzo huffed into the pillow, still refusing to move.

Jesse spread kisses over his shoulder, scratching his skin with his unkempt beard. “We should take the dogs for a walk, get some exercise. You need it.” His hand squeezed the little bit of extra chub that had collected on Hanzo's hips over their years of rest.

Hanzo squirmed, burying his low chuckle into the pillow. “You love it,” he muttered, lifting his head to side eye his companion.

“Hmm, I do.” His hand wandered with his lips, spreading across Hanzo's back with gentle warmth. “I love every part of you, sugar.” His words fell lazy from his lips, a hum of affection at the tip of his tongue. He brushed aside his husband's hair, pressing his lips against the outside of his ear. Nibbling for a second as he waited for Hanzo to finally move. The man beneath him turned, stretching his body before coming to rest on his side. Jesse only stared.

Admiring every stress line and wrinkle that decorated Hanzo's face. His eyes, even though tired, not painted quite as dark underneath as they used to during their glory days. Once filled with aggressive fire, now subdued like the calm after a storm. A scar above his left eyebrow where he took a blade to the face pulling another heroic stunt for his beloved. Old gray streaking his hair, long and frayed against his shoulders. The most beautiful thing he could ever wake up to, and he had the chance every morning.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” Hanzo tilted his head and Jesse smiled in return. He drew back stray hair from his husband's face, letting a long kiss fall across his forehead.

“About how lucky I am.”

Hanzo smiled in return, rolling his eyes. “Luck had nothing to do with it.”

“Luck was that bullet hittin' you where it did,” Jesse grunted in return, his hand along Hanzo's chest. His thumb circled the small scar he memorized since their first kiss. Not his only scar, but the one he could find without looking.

Hanzo squirmed at his touch, trying to neglect the fact that his lover's hands were cold. “I knew exactly what I was doing when I took that for you.” He grabbed Jesse's hand and brought it to his face, lacing warm kisses against his fingertips. A moment of silence between them as Hanzo made sure to press each digit against his lips. “You said we needed exercise. We don't even have to leave the bed for that.”

“That so?” Jesse grinned, sliding his hand past Hanzo's cheek and leaning in for a lazy kiss. He positioned his body with an elbow on one side of his lover's head, his chest gliding over his. Their hips came together in an obnoxious squeak beneath the covers. Jesse winced and Hanzo pulled a destroyed stuffed dragon from between their bodies. A frenzy of paws scattered against the hardwood, every dog in the house rushing into the bedroom.

The couple braced themselves for the storm of pups as two pounced onto the bed. The two tackled the toy, the golden retriever stopping to place a well aimed lick right on Jesse's face. Hanzo reached his hand down the side of the bed, scooping up the corgi puppy off the floor onto the bed. The destructive dogs danced out their excitement, the aussie throwing the toy off the bed. Jesse collapsed onto his back as their smallest dog crawled onto his chest, letting out a tired huff. “How about we stay in bed?” Jesse grunted and Hanzo laughed, patting the dog that positioned itself under his arm.

Their free hands entwined between the blanket as the flurry of loose fur and wagging tails came to a calm end. Hanzo closed his eyes from the sun, basking in the warmth of the hot summer and the lovely body beside him. “Sounds perfect, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If you like this or anything else I do, consider leaving me a tip.
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/studiostarlight


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